


Black and White

by ICarryDeathOnMyWings



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley has long hair agian, Cuddling, Grooming, Hickeys, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Insecure!Aziraphale, Long Haired Crowley, M/M, Wings, caring!crowley, implied sex, molting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22372285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICarryDeathOnMyWings/pseuds/ICarryDeathOnMyWings
Summary: Set after the Apocolypse, Crowley and Aziraphale are exploring their new relationship. Crowley loves to have his angel groom his wings but Aziraphale won't show the demon his.Also, Crowley makes his hair long again because his man-bun is great and you all know it.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 142





	Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy this! Written for another secret Santa I did... took me forever to write. I took inspiration from Whiteley Foster, specifically these two works. If y'all haven't read Prince of Omens yet... you should. 
> 
> https://whiteleyfoster.tumblr.com/post/190040445843/shortly-after-the-apocalypse-crowley-decided-he
> 
> https://whiteleyfoster.tumblr.com/post/189850318288/prince-of-omens-part-35-they-were-just

It was after the apocalypse and Crowley and Aziraphale were free to be themselves for the first time in their 6000 years. All those many, many years of pining finally culminated in one mind-blowing night in Aziraphlae’s flat above the bookshop. In all of their years, it was the best night they had ever shared. The next morning, Crowley woke up first. He materialized his wings into this plane and shook them out a little bit since they felt all tangled and ruffled. A quick glance back confirmed that almost none of his feathers were laying flat, nor were they fixing when he shook them. He gave a frustrated huff at that. Usually when his feathers got out of place a good shake would fix them right up. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t working this time. 

The shaking of his wings had made pretty loud whooshing noises that had the angel laying beside him stirring, “Crowley?” Aziraphale’s soft, sleep heavy voice filled the room, “What are you doing?” His eyes slowly cracked open so that he could look at his partner. There was light filtering in through the window, hitting Crowley perfectly. It was hard to describe but it made some of his features sharper but other's soft. It was an intoxicating mixture, and, the soft yellow light made the demon look… angelic. It was a wonderful sight that Aziraphale got to wake up to every day if he wanted it to. It did take him a moment to notice the wings that were filling all the extra space in the room. He was aware of how ridiculous this was since there were massive but he had been distracted. The light made them shimmer and sparkle, even turning deep blue and purple. He was sitting up now, the sheets falling and gathering around his hips, “Your wings look amazing.” He breathed out softly. 

“They’re a fucking pain right now.” The other grumbled out, shaking the pair once again in an attempt to get them to fix, “I can’t get them to lay down right.” Aziraphale got up, shifting a little so that he was kneeling behind him, in between his wings, “Will you let me touch them? Maybe I can help?” He asked with a soft smile, “I understand if not, wings are-“

“Please,” Crowley nodded, “I can feel them sitting wrong. It's not right, it doesn't feel good." 

Aziraphale nodded and reached up to start gently working his fingers through the feathers on Crowley’s wings, making sure each one was laying flat. He had to stand on the bed when he got to the tips because they were so tall he couldn’t remain kneeling if he wanted to reach the top feathers, “There you go. Do they feel better?” He asked once he was sitting on the bed again. This time he was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, watching Crowley. 

“Yes, they feel so much better.” He shook them once more before folding them away with a thought, “Thank you very much.” He turned around so that he was facing Aziraphale, leaning forward to kiss him, “What can I do for you? Can I do your wings?”

Aziraphale reached up, curling his fingers in Crowley’s hair, “You know what you can do for me? You can grow your hair out again.” He pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw, smiling against his skin, “I think that would be nice.” 

Crowley shook his head, “I like my hair short like this.” He pouted a little bit at him, “And you ignored my offer.” 

“I’m okay, Crowley.” He assured, “I appreciate it,”

Crowley let it drop even if he found it a little strange for Aziraphale to have done it to him but then not let him reciprocate. He eventually forgot about it, moving on with his new life. His new life was amazing since he spent most of his time with the angel... which on second thought wasn't overly different than what had happened before the almost end of the world. He supposed the biggest difference was the fear. Or, more accurately, the lack of it. He found that now, one of his favorite things to do was have his wings groomed by the angel. They had done it a handful of times since that first night and Aziraphale really knew what he was doing now: where to touch and when to use different pressure. After ever time, Crowley would ask Aziraphale if he wanted his wings done and the angel would respond only with, ‘No thank you, but you could grow your hair out.’ It was a pretty nice back and forth even though Crowley wasn’t considering growing his hair out, he did like it short like this. 

That was until one night while Aziraphale was grooming Crowley’s wings. The demon had his head tilted back while a small smile ghosted his lips. The angel leaned forward so he could gently kiss along Crowley’s neck since the other had so easily put it on display for him. It would be a wasted opportunity if he didn't. As time went one, he started getting a little bit more rough with his kisses so that he was leaving dark marks. Crowley gasped and shuddered, whole body leaning back into it, “Where is this coming from? We just finished.” He wasn’t complaining, however, and if he really wanted to, he could be ready again in just a single thought. This wasn’t like Aziraphale though, he wasn’t usually like this. 

“I know.” He smirked, “I’m just enjoying myself, can’t I do that?” He ran his fingers through Crowley’s wings even as he was kissing along his neck. By the time he was finished, there were dark marks up and down the expanse of his neck, and Aziraphale would be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly proud of his work. They had stayed on the bed a few moments longer before Crowley got up to clean up a bit. He easily could have snapped his fingers but he liked doing it himself. The way the warm water felt against his skin, or how his hands ran against his skin, or Aziraphale’s… sometimes the angel would wash up with him but he often didn’t. 

This time when he walked into the bathroom he was greeted by a constellation of hickeys on his skin. Crowley blushed deeply at the sight, lightly skimming his fingers over the pale column of his neck- it reminded him of the night sky but in reverse and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what Aziraphale had wanted. Either way, he didn’t want to heal them nor did he want to have them on display. Snake eyes met in the mirror before he was struck with the realization that he could just make his hair grow out and this way he could just cover the marks with his hair if he wanted to.

He snapped and his hair grew out to shoulder length in soft red waves. It hadn’t been like that in quite some time but Crowley found that he enjoyed it more than he had previously thought he had, so he took a minute to run his fingers through the new length, even messing with it a bit. After taking a quick shower (where he took great pleasure in washing his newly long hair), he stepped back into the bedroom, “Hey, angel.” He hummed as he moved to kneel on the bed behind Aziraphale. The angel turned, looking back to Crowley, “Hello, de-“ He gasped, “Your hair!” Hr turned around fully so that he could run his fingers through Crowley’s hair with a wonderful grin on his face, “Oh, it looks amazing! I’m so glad you decided to-“ Realization spread over Crowley’s face, “You did the hickeys on purpose! You wanted me to-“ 

“You caught me.” He smiled sheepishly at the demon, “Your hair is gorgeous like this. I mean, you're gorgeous all the time! But I just-“ 

Crowley leaned forward, cupping his cheek with a hum, “Oh, shut up, angel.” He kissed him deeply, “You’re lucky I like you," He teased, "Your plan was very well executed… I’m impressed.” After a few more minutes of talking and hair playing, they went to bed, cuddling and giggling like a couple of school girls. 

A few weeks later Crowley was lounging in his flat, sitting on the chair that was always in his office. One leg was thrown up over the golden arm of the chair while his back was tucked up against the opposite corner. He wasn’t up to much, just scrolling slowly through his phone and lamenting that Aziraphale had been ‘busy’ for the first time in about… 6000 years. It probably wasn’t a bad thing, they had been spending so much time together that Crowley was positive that the angel was sick of him, so this time away probably would be good for the both of them. 

That’s why he was surprised when there was a knock at the door. He almost didn’t get up to answer it because that was just so much effort but when the person was insistent, he decided he should probably get up. He opened the door and was face to face with Aziraphale. He blinked in surprise, “I thought you were busy!” 

“I was but then I decided not to be.” He shrugged, smiling at him as he walked into the flat without asking if he was allowed in or not. He always would be, but Crowley liked to tease him a little, “Oh, yeah, come on in then.” He raised his eyebrow, shutting the door behind Aziraphale as he entered. Even if he didn't care that the angel was in his flat, it was rather uncharacteristic of him to do so. 

“So, what are you doing here, angel?” Crowley asked. 

“Oh, I wanted to see your hair.” He smiled a little bit but then shrugged, eyes darting around the flat. They hadn’t spent too much time here, usually, they were at Aziraphale’s because his place was much warmer and more comfortable (in Aziraphale’s opinion anyway, Crowley liked his flat). Crowley rolled his eyes, “Come on, you’re a terrible liar. Now, tell me the truth.” 

“I wanted to talk to you about something. Namely… my wings.” He all of a sudden got very shy, his blue eyes darting down to look at Crowley’s feet, “They feel odd so I was wondering if you would check them for me?” He was so hesitant in asking that Crowley couldn’t help but wonder why he was so shy about it, “Of course I will, Aziraphale.”

Crowley extended his hand to him, “Let’s go to the bedroom then. There's a lot of room for you to let them out.” Aziraphale hesitated before slipping his fingers with the demon’s. The two walked down the hallway to the bedroom. Crowley’s flat didn’t have any doors, which Aziraphale had always found odd but charming. Once they were in the room, Crowley helped Aziraphale disrobe. The angel always had so many layers, it always blew his mind but it was part of what he loved about him. They weren’t talking much, but this wasn’t a time when talking was strictly necessary.

Crowley got onto the bed, sitting in the middle of it. The bedroom looked much like the rest of the flat, with concrete walls and industrial accents. His headboard and footboard were solid black, while his sheets and pillows were deep red. He did have one singular light blue pillow that Aziraphale had brought over at one point. He couldn’t even remember when now. From his spot in the bed, he looked up at Aziraphale, who was standing at the side of the bed in only his trousers. He was soft in the best possible way. Crowley loved how he himself could be described as 'sharp', but his counterpart Aziraphale was rounded, with gently sloping lines… he thought they fit very well together if he did say so himself. 

Aziraphale still looked nervous which wasn’t overly uncommon but he never looked like this around Crowley. Well, not anymore at least, “Angel?” He asked, tilting his head a little bit, “You’re making me nervous just standing there like that, what’s wrong?” 

Slowly, the angel sat down on the edge of the bed, “I’m molting,” He said slowly, “It’s quite uncomfortable so I was wondering if you’d help.” It was the reason he had decided to be 'busy' that night. He hadn't wanted to bother Crowley with the whole business. Just because he was uncomfortable didn't mean Crowley needed to be as well. However, he soon realized that he couldn't stand the itching of it, and so, wanted the other's help. 

Crowley shifted so he was sitting up on his knees, “Of course I will, angel.” He gave him a gentle smile, one only reserved for the angel sitting in front of him. He didn’t want people to see him as ‘soft’ (sofy like a pushover... not soft like Aziraphale) but Aziraphale knew Crowley much better than any other being in the Universe so he knew eactly what that smile meant, and all the meaning behind it. 

There was still hesitation on the angel’s end. Like he was scared of something. Crowley reached up, putting his hand on his shoulder, “I don’t know why you hesitate but it’s okay,” He kissed his cheek, “Whatever it is.” 

Aziraphale sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want you to see them. I just don’t think that- your wings are just so-“ His shoulders slumped a bit, “You’re wings are so incredible, beautiful with so many colors hidden under them. Mine are just white, and compared to yours they.... they don’t compare.” He slowly met Crowley's eyes, unsure of how he would react. He was aware that Crowley had, for a long time, despised his own wings because of what they had meant. It was only over many, many years that the demon had grown to love them. They did suit him in a way angel wings couldn’t. 

“That’s why this is about, angel?” He asked quietly, “Your wings are breathtaking and so amazingly you.” He kissed his cheek, “You can’t compare our wings like that.” He shook his head a little trying to be as comforting as possible but showing him that he thought everything about his angel was just right for him. Aziraphale titled his head into Crowley’s touch. His eyes were closed now, focusing just on the touch of the other as he materialized his wings into existence. They popped out, filling the room with a brilliant white for a moment before it went away and he was shaking his wings slightly to get more comfortable. 

As they shook, loose feathers fell to the ground. He was indeed molting. Crowley leaned back slightly so he could take in all of Aziraphale: shirtless with his wings out. It was such a beautiful sight. He had never felt more in love than at that moment, “You are amazing.” He breathed out, “Breathtaking.” He moved around so that he was kneeling behind Aziraphale. He reached out and started grooming his wings, removing the loose feathers and making the new ones lay flat against him. They two were quiet for a few moments when Aziraphale spoke again, “Can I see your wings?” He asked.

Crowley obliged, letting his wings be seen by the other. He shook them, a few of his feathers falling onto the bed and mingling with Aziraphale’s. He looked at the bed, where they were mixing together, “Aziraphale?” He smiled at him, “I think that we’re beautiful together.” He picked up a black and a white feather, handing them to the angel, “See?” 

Aziraphale took them in his hands, a smile ghosting his lips, “I would agree.” He looked back at him. Though the angle was awkward, he twisted so that he was able to kiss Crowley. They were lucky that they didn't get too side tracked by the kiss, which is what often happened when the roles were reversed. The rest of the time Crowley was working on grooming Aziraphale's wings went well. He was grateful that the angel had allowed him this honor of being able to not only see but touch his wings as well and he made sure he knew it by whispering softly to him as he worked. 

When they were done, there was a mess of white feathers with a scattering of jet black. They cleaned them up, putting them all off to the side and for the rest of the night, they just cuddled, which Crowley would deny. Demons did not cuddle. 

From that night on though, Aziraphale didn’t keep his wings hidden from Crowley and he always kept one of each of their feathers in the pen holder he had sitting on his desk in the bookshop. Whenever he looked over at them, he was reminded of Crowley and if he got a self-esteem boost every time he caught a glimpse of his own white feather, well, that was his own business, wasn't it?

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed please leave a comment and kudos and as always, let me know if I should add any tags or if there are any mistakes that I made.


End file.
